Over the Fence

Yesterday as I walked past a school by my place, the kids were out on lunch break. A soccer ball sailed over the fence and onto the street. Several young scholars came up to the chain link barrier, hopeful as they saw me coming that I would pick it up and toss it back over to them. When I did, several girls came up further down the way. One asked if I could throw a hat back over that had somehow found its way to my side as well.

It’s not the first time this has happened as I’ve walked by at this downtown K-8 school. I imagine if I stood on the sidewalk at all their outdoor breaks I could have a steady job of throwing things back over that had managed to escape the confines of school property. The constant screams of kids running around burning off pent up energy and exercising their vocal chords have deterred me, not to mention the appearance of being creepy.

The school chain link fence separates one age group from others, those who belong to that school from those who don’t, and strangers from a large peer group. As I walked away I thought about fences, real or imagined between people, and how we demarcate ourselves from others. Covid-19 has made this true of practically everyone we encounter. We give a wide berth walking past people on sidewalks, distancing in stores and staying home as much as possible. It’s been the perfect excuse to not get involved with those we would like to avoid. At church, despite gradually coming back together again, barriers still exist between our family of faith and between us and those outside.

In my downtown core, Covid-19 has exacerbated the homelessness crisis. Recently there have been arson attempts, loitering and littering of drug paraphernalia at our museum, which is at the back of the city square. Visitors and shoppers on our main street have felt unsafe around the population of vagrants and addicts. Businesses are moving elsewhere. The solution of removing benches where these folks congregate has had mixed reactions, but there is definitely a sense of us and them, those who are welcome and those who are not. To their credit, our city council is taking steps to try to address the issue beyond just taking away a gathering place.

Tossing that ball back to a bunch of kids I didn’t know, who were so grateful that they could play again and who perhaps aren’t used to a friendly face from outside their school community, was a nice moment. Since I work primarily with adults, it was a great feeling to have that brief interaction. Volleying the hat back over got many thank yous and smiles. The fence stayed in place, but the division between me and them was removed for just a few seconds. We enriched each other in a very simple way. How much more can we do this with those who we normally ignore or consider not in our lane?

Good boundaries are essential as we navigate the pandemic, our relationships and ministry. WIthout them we get dragged into things that aren’t ours to live. Walls, however, can give us a false sense of security and an excuse to disregard the needs of our neighbour. As we seek to rebuild a just and safe community, within and outside our churches, may we have good boundaries that allow for mutual care and compassion, not walls that divide and stop love from flowing through. Let’s look over the fence and see each other.